When Mary Attacks!
by Little Black Duress
Summary: Mary Sues. The evil beings upon this planet have infested the WWE since ff.net put this section up. Nowadays, they're all attacking Randy. Can the Superstars destroy this evil and let Orton go to the fricken' ring without being tackled by beautiful women
1. Chappy 1!

**When Mary Attacks!**

**- **

I don't know about you, but I am goddamned sick of all these stupid Mary Sue OC/Randy Orton crap writing pieces that pop up every three seconds. Feeling the same way? Read on!

General Manager of Raw, Eric Bischoff stared at the office around him. He sank into his cushy leather chair, and his eye twitched.

Surrounding him were…

MARY SUES.

Now, Eric was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life-mainly beautiful women. Of course, he had to blackmail and threaten them to get 'jiggy' with him but still, the finer things in life. In front of him was a joke.

There were ten blondes, ten brunettes, ten 'raven trussed beauties' and several redheads with startling resemblances to Lita, Kane, or Matt Hardy. The latter of the four were, of course, the other three's offspring with fiery and violent souls that could only be tamed by the man known to kill legends.

Randy Orton. (Poor sap.)

They dressed in an array of leather, lace, and silk, with smooth, creamy complexions, and startling blue/purple/green flecked with brown eyes. Decked out in wrestling gear, but with such superb touches, it looked beautiful enough to grace a runway, because, of course, as well as being naturally stunning, these women all were the best wrestlers. At least half of them had Women's Championships over their shoulders, and the other half had recently lost it after being ambushed by thirty men whom she bravely fought off until her poor body was exhausted.

They stood patiently, warily, as untrustful Mary Sues may be around their own kind, and of course, they had been so jaded in the past they couldn't trust anyone but the dashing, blue eyed Orton, around Eric's desk, all demanding the same thing:

"We want Randy!"

They were all his lovers, wives, girlfriends, long lost childhood friends, one night standers and long time best friends who had fallen in love with him. They all wanted him. Now please. Before their championship matches.

Now, Eric Bischoff may be portrayed as an evil man on the tellie, but in reality, he's only a little better then on TV. The camera adds ten pounds, and he gets grumpy. Anyways…

"He…is not here yet."

The Mary Sues sighed, disappointed, and left his office, off to search for their beloved Randy.

Little did those MS's know was that Randy was alive and well in the arena. He was currently hiding beneath a large, inconspicuous food table with about ten other wrestlers and the Divas. The MS's would never be near food, never-unless they were on a candlelight dinner with Randy, or meeting up with him at a fancy restaurant.

Stacy was curled up on his lap, looking terrified. On her way over, she had been brutally assaulted by three MS's, who claimed she was stealing their best friend turned passionate lover. Trish was also in shock, sitting by Christian. She wasn't aware of how many Women's Championships there were on Raw.

Chris Jericho, who had his fair share of MS run ins, sighed, and smacked his head on the table ceiling thing, "How long do we have to hide here? I mean, I have the Highlight Reel coming up. The MS's can't assault and rape me out there. They think somehow that the crowds will go so wild someone will get hurt. Damn ass clown-ettes."

Batista shivered, "I don't know man, but I can't take this anymore. Why'd I have to win the rumble! Now they're making stories and fantasies about me!" He burst into tears. Victoria patted his arm sympathetically.

Hulking under the table, Kane grinned, "See, that's why I'm so scary and got married publicly. The MS's almost always ignore guys who they know are married. Really knowing, I mean. Right Lita?" His wife gave him a withering look, "Yeah, but I still always get paired up with young Randall over there on the damned world. No offense Orton. I'm just grouchy because I have several children out there whom I never had. Unless I got drunk for nine months and my child was raised by pixies."

Randy shook his head, "Anyway…I have a match tonight. Does anyone have a fake beard or sunglasses? Hmmm?" He was met by silence. Finally, someone grumbled, "Take my coat and hat."

It was, of course, the Undertaker. Why? He'll tell you why, punk, hold on!

'Taker handed the clothing over, and mumbled, "I got me some daughters out there too who are starting to piss me off beyond belief. You have no idea how bad it is for my image to have cheerful offspring."

"Right on, brother." Said Kane, and they did the pound. Lita, once again, with the rolling of eyes.

Randy took the Undertaker's prized possessions, and slipped them on. He gave everyone a sad look, "If somehow I don't make it out there, just know I love all you guys-no not that way, you twisted bastard, that way is the me and Stacy way." He said with disgust, looking at Gene Snitsky, who had been making a funny face.

The Superstars and Divas sniffed, several bursting into tears. "Good luck Randy." Came a sob from the other end of the table. Everyone turned. Sitting there, her sparkling green eyes moist with crystal tears, was a beautiful woman by the name of Lynna. Her hair flowed down her back in a golden cascade. Her skin was-

"MARY SUE!" The wrestlers shouted, and they all jumped up, smashing the table in half and running for their dear lives.

Only Kane and Lita remained. Lita peered closely at her, "Your not my child, right?"

"Nope." Lynna answered in her melodic voice."

"Lita nodded, "Good. Kane, sweetie, darling, choke slam her into the table pieces."

"Much obliged." Kane mumbled, and a minute later, the defenseless Mary Sue was writhing on the ground.

The two linked arms, and walked off happily, humming a little. They had Randy's match to watch, after all.

I'm still gonna continue Twisted, no worries-I just need to get some stuff out of my system about some of the crappier stories on right now.


	2. Chappy Two!

When Mary Attacks!

Hehehe…I like the reviews I got. Here are a few notes:

I'm not bashing OC's entirely. There are some very beautiful, well mastered stories out that have made me smile, shake and shiver all at once. But I am so sick of the same generic set up: A beautiful Diva comes to Raw. A 'certain legend killer' catches their eye and they begin a very hasty and amazing romance. Triple H usually attempt to tear them apart. And Trish. But I don't like her, so let the Mary Sue kick her ass.

I am planning on an OC fiction, using my nickname and dream of becoming a WWE wrestler. Not the kind like Maria and those girls, but one who wrestles and can proudly say she hurts people for a living. If I do chose to lead a romance, there will be a slow building of relationship and trust, as is in real life. Not 'wow her eyes are so beautiful he thought and suddenly before he knew it they were passionately shoving their fucking tongues down each other's throats and having wild sex.' Well…that was a little harsh. But true.

People have flaws, by the way. Mary Sue's don't. Except for the fact they're always crying. Drama queens. Che.

Anyways, enjoy reading Chapter Two of When Mary Attacks!

The Hurricane was a kind soul, and a good person at heart. He was, after all a superhero, with former S.H.I.T., Rosie. But even superheroes have their slight flaws. Like the Hurricane talking loudly.

"Citizen Orton!" Our favorite green masked choke-slammin' hero cried as Randy Orton attempted to duck behind a trashcan. Several feet away, a Mary Sue stood in her nauseatingly immaculate beauty, talking to a stagehand, who was staring at her with a dumbfounded look.

"Shhhh…" Randy said, pressing a finger to his lips quickly. The Hurricane quirked a brow, and took his super-stance, saying, "Your hiding, Citizen Orton. Is there a problem? You are going to end up smelling like trash if you stay there too long, and I do not believe Miss Keibler will find that attractive. Wazzupwitdat!"

Now, fortunately, the Mary Sue didn't hear a lick of this-she was far to busy with hearing her own smooth voice pour from her cherry red lips. Her hair was red-yep. Lita/Kane and/or Hardy offspring, judging by her brown/blue eye(s).

"I'm…" Randy thought desperately, and said slowly, "…undercover. That's right. See, Undertaker even leant me his coat and hat. That woman over there is a very evil villain…she wants to…umm, take over Raw and make sure Triple H and La Resistance and the Coach rule the roost. And she's going to…kill the Divas?" The Legend Killer finished weakly. Never fear, though-the Hurricane had used his hurri-senses to figure out that Mary Sue was hurri-ohh, forget it, even he saw she was EVIL.

"Ohhh…Okay then, Citizen…uhh…Ken? Ken. Citizen KEN." He emphasized the last word, and edged from the trashcan, "Go back to checking for your lost keys, Citizen KEN. I'll be right back with…help."

Ten minutes and one slightly smelly Orton later, Randy was hiding behind Rosey and the Hurricane as they snuck out towards the ring.

As for the rest of the roster, they were huddled in Evolutions locker room. Since it was, of course, the biggest, and the Mary Sues passionately hated Flair and our dear Hunter. Because, of course, RANDY hated them. For now. But Ric and Triple H weren't even at the arena. They were huddling in little balls in their hotel room. Why? They had ordered a cake from a bakery down the street, only some dumbass Mary Sue decided to replay the events on the night Randy Orton jumped from the stripper cake thing. Unfortunately for our dear Evolution, she jumped in the batter before it was baked. Happily for us, she died a slow and cakey death. Unfortunately again for Evolution, they still had to pay the cake bill and Ric Flair had found an eyeball in his icing. Eww.

So there they huddled around the screen. A few guys were sitting in the closets, stretching in the cramped spaces, for their matches that night. Several boyfriends were looking very discomforted and their girlfriends sat on their laps and applied makeup. Therefore, blush was blown onto their faces, giving them an attractive and boyishly ruddy appearance. But it felt ger-oss.

Kane and Lita, coming out from where they had chokeslammed the Mary Sue, entered the room as Randy's match against Maven began. Lita looked around and blinked, "Hey guys, we have Mary Sue body parts, wanna see?"

Kane held up a bloody arm.

As it turned out, the strange couple had discovered the way to defeat Mary Sues. Unfortunately, it was difficult. When Kane choke slammed the non-daughter of Lita's, she sort of went all…dead. Not that it would have killed her, but the fact was that she had been beaten. And no handsome male had come to her aide. After ten minutes, Lita had walked back to check the Mary Sue's pants pockets for any change to use the soda machine, and discovered she was deteriorating. She got very unpretty within a few seconds or so, and basically fell apart. Mushy. Ewww.

Kane and Lita quickly came to the conclusion that since no one had come to the aide of the dastardly Mary Sue, she had died. Because, of course, Mary Sues cannot live without dashing men saving them or tight knit friends to rescue their asses.

Thus became the opening statement for a plot so evil, so twisted that even Undertaker approved. They would kill the Mary Sues. Then feed them to Snitsky. But how would they catch all the Mary Sues?

Chris Jericho's eyes fell on the TV screen as Randy battled out Maven, "I think I have a plan…"

Dundundun…Jericho has an idea…everyone run.


End file.
